


Young at Heart

by vivilove



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Bonding, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Grandparents & Grandchildren, Matchmaking, Meet-Cute, Retirement Community, Sexual Content, but mostly this is pretty light, past child abuse mentioned, past domestic abuse mentioned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:54:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27529540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivilove/pseuds/vivilove
Summary: Jon Snow is a law student recently transferred to Riverlands University where Sansa Stark is a nursing student.  The chances of them crossing paths on the large campus might be slim but that’s not where they’ll meet...Rhaella Targaryen is looking forward to her grandson coming for a visit at Oldstones Retirement Community just like her neighbor Hoster Tully is always eager to see his granddaughter and wouldn't it be something if those two kids should hit it off?Jon and Sansa never thought visiting the old folks would lead to falling in love...until it did.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 585
Kudos: 465





	1. Jon

**Author's Note:**

> I've not read many fics of Jon having much of a relationship with any of his grandparents so that's kind of what sparked this one.

“I don’t know about this, Mom. We’ve not spent much time together since I was a kid. What do I even say to her?” Jon asked as he had the phone cradled between his ear and shoulder, searching for a clean shirt.

“Just talk. She’ll be happy you came to see her.”

“Yeah but it’s going to be awkward after about five minutes.”

“You can handle a little awkward, can’t you? You’re not a kid anymore.”

She was right. He wasn’t. He was twenty-four and a new law student at Riverlands University. He could give an hour or two of free time to his grandmother and not whine about it being a sacrifice. “I’m going…once I find a clean shirt.”

Lyanna laughed through the phone, making him smile to hear it. “I know it’s forty-five minutes away but it’ll mean so much to her, Jon. I call her here and there but you know it’s…well, it’s awkward with us.”

He knew that. How could it not be awkward? Considering the circumstances of his conception and birth and the strained relations that had arisen between more than just his mother and father, he felt his mother was quite thoughtful for even bothering to call his paternal grandmother.

Speaking of which…

“You know, she has three kids who could visit her.”

“Yeah, she does and none of them visit. Your Aunt Dany is young…”

“Barely younger than me!”

“But she’s always been her father’s daughter at heart and she still blames your grandmother for the divorce.”

“Oh, yeah because Aerys is such a gem,” he said sarcastically.

“Families are complicated, Jon.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Anyway, Viserys can’t visit.” No, his uncle wouldn’t be visiting his mother. _Hard to do when you’re currently behind bars_. “And your father…”

“Is a self-absorbed asshole who found a retirement community for his mother four hours away from where he lives.” He heard his mother’s sigh and felt guilty for dredging up hurtful things. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. You’re not wrong. She’s so excited you’re coming, Jon. I hope you can enjoy the visit, knowing that at least.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be okay. Love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

* * *

Oldstones Retirement Community was not a nursing home although he’d thought of it as one. He’d pictured some old depressing building resembling a hospital with blank eggshell white walls, dingy tiled floors and musty-smelling, hospital-style rooms.

Therefore, Jon was pleasantly surprised to see it was indeed a community, a neighborhood for the elderly with rows and rows of neat individual bungalows with their own little postage stamp yards spread out in an arch around a larger one level ‘community center.’

However, in order to get a pass to enter the gated section where those bungalows were, you had to check in at the center first.

Parking out front, he walked inside the center to get his bearings, the whoosh of the automatic doors giving him a blast of air conditioning on the exceptionally warm autumn day.

He caught sight of a young woman in navy blue scrubs holding the arm of an elderly man as they walked along. Thinking she might be an employee of the center, he approached.

“Hi. I was wondering if…”

His words and his train of thought were effectively stopped in their tracks when she turned towards him with forget-me-not blue eyes and waves of auburn hair.

“Oh, hello,” she replied, a musical lilt to her voice as she looked at him expectantly.

Damn, she was beautiful. She was around his age, maybe a couple of years younger. Could she already be a nurse? Or just an assistant here?

There was a pattern to her scrubs, cartoon characters he recognized from childhood including Wiley Wolfe. It was cute. She was stunning.

The old guy beside her cleared his throat irritably and Jon realized he was just standing there staring at her and her scrubs. It’s not like he didn’t know how to talk to women but he felt his mouth going dry while he was drowning in those eyes of hers.

Her expectant smile began to morph into one of concern as the silence stretched on. _Say something! Use your words, you idiot!_

So unfortunately, Jon blurted out the first words that came to mind. “I’m here to see Gamma.”

_Those were not the words I had in mind._

The beauty’s lips twitched and Jon felt heat flooding his face. Of course, he’d fall back to what he’d called Rhaella when he’d been two (not that he’d ever stopped calling her that when it was just him and her.)

“I mean, I was looking for my grandmother.”

“Oh, well…do you know which bungalow she’s in or…”

“Reception’s over there, kid,” the old man interrupted curtly. “My granddaughter doesn’t have your gamma hiding under her top either.”

“Grandpa!”

Jon’s red face was getting redder but now. Hers was, too. “I wasn’t looking!” Well, his eyes had lingered on her top for a minute there. “I was just…I like the wolf bit,” he said, nodding towards her chest. “Wiley was always my favorite.”

_The wolf bit?! ‘Wiley was always my favorite?’ Gods, you are such a dumbass_ , he thought, rolling his eyes at himself.

The old guy with his shaggy grey beard shot through with hints of red continued to glare at him. He had a cane and Jon wondered if he was about to use it on him. At least, she was smiling.

“I’m sorry for assuming. I just saw the scrubs and thought…”

“No, it’s okay. I’m a nursing student, thus the scrubs. I just came by to see my grandfather today after my classes were done.”

“Checking up on me for your mother, you mean.”

“You know I want to see you anyway, Grandpa.”

She was still smiling but there was an edge of hurt feelings in her voice, too. Jon didn’t like the idea of anyone hurting her feelings although he didn’t even know her name. _Yet_.

The old man took the hint though and grasped her hand. “I know, darling. Sorry. They’ll help you out at reception, kid.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

“Who’re you seeing anyway?”

“Rhaella Targaryen.”

“Rhaella?” he said, his bushy eyebrows raised. “Well, that’s swell. I’m her neighbor, Hoster Tully.”

He held out his hand so Jon shook it. “Jon Snow.” He looked hopefully towards Hoster’s granddaughter, unable to hide his grin.

“I’m Sansa Stark,” she said, shaking Jon’s hand as well, her cheeks still flushed a lovely shade of pink. “And I’m glad you have such good taste in cartoons.”

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, grinning wider. “It’s nice to meet you both.” _Especially you._

“Have a nice time with your gamma, Jon,” Hoster chuckled. _Never living down that introduction then._ “The sweet shop’s open. You wanna ice cream, darling?”

Jon smiled, thinking his grandmother would likely ask him the same question.

Sansa cocked an eyebrow at him and put a hand on her hip. “Do I want an ice cream or is it you who wants one, Grandpa?” she asked, clearly amused.

“I’m sure you’ll be reminding me of the doctor saying to watch my sweets, huh?”

“Maybe.”

“I've been a good boy, I swear. I also remember when you couldn’t say no to mint chocolate chip,” he added in a slightly pleading tone.

“I still struggle to say no to it,” she laughed. “Maybe they have a no-sugar alternative."

"Blech. Help me out here, Jon."

"I, uh..." He looked between them both, Mr. Tully with pleading puppy dog eyes and Sansa with her hand still on her hip. "I mean, one little scoop’s not so bad and I'll bet they have a variety of options with, um...different sizes and calories, sugar-free and...you know I've never been here before in my life, right?"

They both started laughing and he was mesmerized by the tinkling sound of Sansa's as her eyes sparkled.

"Well, maybe we'll check out the varieties available, Grandpa," Sansa relented, giving Jon a wink. _Hot damn!_ "It was nice to meet you, Jon. I hope you enjoy your visit.”

“Thanks. It was nice to meet you, too,” he replied as they continued down the hallway.

_Sansa’s a pretty name. Where do you go to school? Riverlands? Please, say Riverlands. They've got a nursing program there...I think. Do you come here often? Can I buy you both an ice cream? Can I have your number? Do you have a boyfriend? I really do like the wolf bit._

Naturally, he’d think of a dozen things to say as she was walking away, not that he could say most of those things when they'd just met.

With a sigh, he headed towards the reception desk as Sansa and her grandfather disappeared from his view.

“Can I help you?” a woman wearing pink scrubs, a friendly smile and a name tag that said ‘Yaya’ on it asked.

“Yes, I’m here to see my gamma.” He groaned inwardly as her smile widened. “I mean, my grandmother. I want to visit Rhaella Targaryen.”

“Oh, Rhaella! What’s your name, honey?”

“Jon Snow.”

“Okay, Jon Snow, let’s take a look.” She opened a ledger to nearly the back page, her finger tracing downwards. “Do you have an ID on you, Jon?”

“Yeah.”

He grimaced as he pulled out his wallet. It was possible they asked this of all visitors but he had to wonder if his grandfather and uncle didn’t make this necessary for his grandmother. There was still an Order of Protection in place for his grandfather and Viserys wouldn’t be welcome lots of places, particularly around a potentially vulnerable population. _Well, I’ll bet Old Hoster with his cane can take care of himself alright._

Yaya looked it over and then smiled, passing him a slip of paper with a word written on it.

“Hippie?”

“Yeah, that’s the gate’s passcode. Just use the alpha-numeric keypad to enter it and you can pull your vehicle through.”

“Okay but hippie?”

“The residents vote on it once a month. They tend to go with something that gives them a chuckle.”

“What was last month’s?”

“Prunes.”

“No shit?” Yaya’s eyes widened before she threw her head back and laughed. Jon hadn’t meant to curse in front of a stranger but when he thought about the meaning there… “Sorry,” he said, failing to stifle his answering laughter.

After they’d settled down again, Yaya asked, “Does she know you’re coming?”

“Yeah, she does.”

“Great. I know she’ll be happy to see you. She doesn’t get…” Yaya trailed off, a soft melancholy settling in her warm brown eyes.

“Many visitors, I know,” he said, shifting guiltily. He’d moved here six weeks ago. He could’ve come sooner. “I…maybe that’ll change.”

“I hope so, Jon. Have a nice visit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this back in April (I think?) and got three chapters done before I wound up shelving it. Then, I stuck it in my drafts here last month and it's on the verge of getting deleted so figured I'd post and see if anyone would want to read it. Let me know with some response or awful, deafening silence, I guess 😅. 
> 
> (And I'll be updating my new historical fic tomorrow if you're reading it ❤️)


	2. Sansa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your lovely responses to the first chapter 💕💕💕💕💕 I've got one more chapter completed after this one which I'll share and I'll do my best to keep going on it once life gets back on track here again.

Sansa Stark sat down across from her grandpa with her lemon sherbet, claiming the seat with the window view. The sweet shop was out of prepackaged cups of mint chocolate chip but she would never complain about lemon sherbet, a very close second as favorites went. Her grandfather was busy with his mini ice cream sandwich, not even arguing over it being a ‘mini.’

There was music playing over a speaker, some satellite oldies channel. She recalled this being one that she’d heard on her grandmother’s record player and smiled as she slyly watched Jon Snow climbing into a black SUV.

_“He’s so fine (do-lang-do-lang-do-lang)_

_Wish he were mine (do-lang-do-lang-do-lang)_

_That handsome boy over there (do-lang-do-lang-do-lang)_

_The one with the wavy hair…”_

She wished she’d learned more about him than his name.

_Well, I did a little. I know his grandmother’s name and that she lives next door to Grandpa._

However, as he pulled his vehicle towards the gate that would lead him to his gamma’s bungalow, Sansa shook her head and focused on the reason she was here, to spend time with her grandpa.

Hoster Tully was seventy-three and had moved to Oldstones two years ago after Sansa had started at Riverlands University. He’d had a large house in Riverrun he’d bought many years earlier and raised three children in along with his wife Minisa.

But with the passing of Sansa’s grandmother five years earlier from cancer and with her grandfather’s strength beginning to fade, he’d struggled to take care of it on his own and made the difficult decision to downsize at last. Sansa’s mother had married and moved North as a young bride. Her aunt had married and moved East around the same time. And her Uncle Edmure had a family of his own and no great desire to care for an ageing house.

_“I don’t want to be a bother to anyone,”_ Sansa recalled overhearing her grandfather telling her mother when he announced his intentions.

_“You’re not a bother, Dad. You could move up here and…”_

_“It’s too damned cold up there, Cat. I like being here so don’t fret, alright?”_

Her mother fretted some all the same though and Sansa did as well. At least, she felt like she could do something about it being this close.

Though he had his taciturn moments, her grandfather was a loving man. Some of Sansa’s fondest childhood memories were the golden summer days she’d spent with her grandparents in Riverrun as a girl. As the second oldest of five children, those trips away with just her grandparents had been a rare opportunity to be the only child in a sense, to have the full attention and affection of someone.

She didn’t wish to complain, because that’s not who Sansa was, but she had felt shuffled aside at home growing up at times. She wasn’t Robb, the first born and amazeballs at everything sports, and she wasn’t Rickon, the baby (a most mischievous baby.) She wasn’t Arya, the wild child and apple of daddy’s eye who was always getting into scrapes and just as readily getting out of them. She wasn’t Bran (mother's favorite) who was extraordinarily brilliant and so sweet so of course they all adored him.

She was Sansa, the good girl with straight A’s, always pretty, polite and well-behaved, willing to pitch in around the house, capable of sewing a straight hem or baking a batch of cookies and fond of those girly things that it wasn't cool to be fond of. Just Sansa, who no one ever needed to worry over too much.

But when she would visit her grandparents, she did get to feel like someone special to them.

Learning to knit, sew and crochet with her grandmother on rainy afternoons, baking together in her cozy kitchen, the aroma making her mouth water. Listening to her grandfather’s stories as she’d follow him down to his favorite fishing spot, her weaving crowns of reeds and flowers while he fished on sunny summer mornings. Then, he’d started asking her to make up stories to tell him. Helping him care for the rabbits they kept in hutches out back for ages. It had all been like an extended daydream in many ways, a very meaningful time.

Her grandmother’s passing had been by far the greatest loss she’d known in her twenty-one years and her heart ached all the more for the dear man who’d lost his beloved wife.

So, it was no burden to spend an afternoon with him, no burden at all. Ever since he'd moved here, she’d been coming to see her grandfather at least once a week. Yes, her mother did like having regular updates on how he was doing in addition to the calls she made herself but mostly, it was a comfort to come to this quiet little place.

Life on campus was alright but the past year had been difficult on the dating and friendship front. For the girl everyone was always joking was practically perfect in every way, she felt quite the opposite of perfect at times. Honestly, beyond her career choice, she felt more than a little lost of late on campus and was every bit as grateful to have her grandfather nearby as she suspected he was to have her visiting him. 

As for nursing, she loved it. Even having experienced some of the rougher stuff that came with it during her internship, she knew this was her calling, the thing she was meant to do. How many twenty-one year-olds could say that, right? 

_I wonder if Jon is a student. Or he may have already finished._

It was hard to tell his age for certain with the beard but she’d guess he was only a couple of years older.

_His grandmother would know his age but which one is she?_

There were ladies living alone in the bungalows on either side of her grandfather. She’d waved to them both several times. It really would be nice in a way to get to know them, wouldn’t it? Her grandfather seemed content here but it’d be nice to meet his friends.

“So, your neighbor…what’s she like?”

“Which one?”

“The one you mentioned earlier.”

“You mean Rhaella?” Her grandfather looked up from his nearly demolished ice cream sandwich and grinned at her knowingly. She’d have to be more subtle.

“Yes. I’m so pleased you’ve made friends here, Grandpa.”

“It's either that or sit alone in my place like a big grump." Sansa frowned. "Alright yeah, it’s nice having some friends.” He tossed his wrapper in the bin behind them. “Two points,” he proclaimed without even looking.

“A lucky shot.”

“I’m a lucky guy. Anyway, Rhaella's a nice lady. We chat some. She’s aces at Monopoly and my lucky Bingo night partner.”

“Sounds like you chat more than 'some.'”

“Maybe so but I’m not looking to get fixed up or nothing.”

Sansa blanked. Fixed up? Grandpa?! No, that could never be. He loved one woman all his life but she was gone now.

She returned from her minor spacing out as he said, “Doesn't have many visitors. Pretends it's okay but I think otherwise. He was a good-looking kid.”

“Oh, I…who were you...”

He smirked and she started waving her hands in protest as if she’d never considered such a thing. Her grandfather was not fooled. “Nothing wrong if you noticed, Sansa.”

“Noticed?! I didn't, uh...well..." She could feel herself flushing. She might’ve talked about boys some with her grandmother as a teen but with Grandpa? No way! “That’s not why I come here obviously.”

“Poor Walder will be sad to hear it.”

_“Eww!”_

He started chuckling but took her hand. “I know why you come here and I love you to pieces for spending so much time with this old geezer…”

“You’re not an old geezer.”

“But, you’re twenty-one, darling, sharp as a tack and a real looker like your grandma was. You should be having fun with boys and girls your age.”

“I do have fun…sort of.” She winced at telling her grandpa a fib. She spent a lot of time between her dormitory and the library studying of late.

“Fun, huh? So, what happened to Dickey then?”

“Dickon.”

“Yeah, that one. You've not mentioned him lately.”

“I thought you didn’t like him.”

“Don’t pay attention to me being a surly old guy. So what happened? I thought you two were getting serious about each other.”

“I thought so too…until the playoffs started. Then, it was more like ‘Sansa who?’ and ‘Did I forget again?’ or 'I'll make it up to you, babe.'” She stuck her tongue out in disgust for emphasis. 

“Knew he was a dumb jock. Adios, Dickey. Never liked him anyway.”

She started giggling, appreciating that Grandpa would always take her side at least.

In addition to the break up with Dickon, she’d also experienced a good knife in the back courtesy of a former friend which she wasn’t going to get into today. Beth had heard about Desmera’s betrayal ad nauseum already so she figured she could spare her grandfather.

Glancing back outside where Jon Snow had been, she softly said, “I don’t know much about him or even how old he is.”

“Not as old as Walder anyway. Seemed much nicer, too.”

“That’s not saying much when it comes to Mr. Frey,” she snickered.

“Want me to ask Rhaella about her grandson?”

“NO! Oh gods, please don't! I’d be so embarrassed!”

“Alright, darling. Alright. I’ll zip my lips about Jon Snow. What’d you want to do next today?”

"Well, unless you want to take on Walder and Mr. Mallister again in shuffleboard, we could always head back to your place and just visit there."

"My place, it is."

“I noticed one of your neighbors had some lovely roses still blooming.”

“You did, huh?”

He was back to smirking and her face was hot again. She really needed to work on her subtlety today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics from [He's So Fine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rinz9Avvq6A) by The Chiffons. 
> 
> I wanted to give some background on Sansa but Rhaella's POV is coming next chapter for her visit with Jon. Thank you for reading!


	3. Rhaella

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It would’ve been my grandmother’s birthday if she was still alive so I liked the idea of posting this today :)

Rhaella Targaryen peered out the bay window for the twentieth time in the past ten minutes before telling herself to take a seat and a deep breath.

_You’re like a little kid waiting for a treat._

When Lyanna had called, she’d been pleased but had told herself that something might come up. It’s not that she expected Jon to beg off. Lyanna’s boy had always been reliable in a manner her other grandson rarely was, even as a child. But Rhaella had been conditioned over the years to expect disappointment more often than not and, the older she got, the less she expected things to be otherwise.

However, when Jon hadn’t called to beg off and as the hour of his visit neared, she’d allowed her anticipation to build to where she couldn’t sit still anymore.

A black SUV turned up the street from the direction of the center and, though she’d never seen his car, she knew it was him in an instant.

_Calm down, old lady._

“Oh, bugger that,” she told herself, hurrying to the front door.

Number 901 sat at the end of the quiet cul-de-sac and boasted the same tan siding with stacked stone façade and bay window as every other home on the street. It was lovely really and Rhaella knew that, while Rhaegar had decided _where_ he wished to stick his mother, it must’ve been Elia who’d went to the trouble to find some place that wasn’t horrid.

She patted her bun and watched from the doorway as the black SUV pulled to a stop and Jon climbed out. How had he grown from a little boy to a man so quickly?

_Gods, don’t ask him that._

But when he gave her that shy little grin of his as he made his way up the walk, she couldn’t help bouncing on the balls of her feet the same way he’d once done when she would pay him a visit and he would eagerly lead her to his bedroom to show off his new favorite toy or hobby.

“Jon,” she sighed when he stopped in front of her.

“Hey, Gamma.”

That was certainly not the sweet little voice she’d once known either but it made no difference at all. He was here and pulling her into a hug. She only came up to his chin now. Gods Above, he’d grown. _Or you’ve shrunk. You last saw him four years ago but he would’ve likely been this tall then, too._

With his arms still around her, she cupped his cheeks and beamed at him. “When’d you grow this beard?”

“Last year. Do you hate it?”

It was odd seeing that baby face covered with hair. “No, I don’t hate it. You look quite handsome and scholarly with it.”

“Thank you.”

“But either I’m shrinking or you’re still growing. Tell me you’re still growing?”

“I’m pretty sure I finished growing about six years ago, Gamma.”

“Bah, I knew it! Sucks getting old.” With that, she released her hold on him and beckoned him inside. “I made cherry kool-aid,” she called over her shoulder as she headed towards the kitchen.

She could hear him chuckling as he closed the front door behind him. “I’ve not had kool-aid in a while.”

“Oh no?” she grinned pouring him a glass and setting it at the table. Of course, she didn’t believe he had but when he’d been a boy, he’d loved it and, once she’d discovered that, she’d always had a pitcher of it waiting in her fridge whenever he’d visit.

He sat down and indulged her, glugging the sweet cherry drink down as if he’d never tasted anything so delicious. He sat the glass down with an exaggerated sigh which made them both laugh.

“I’m buying some of that when I go shopping again.”

“It’s been a long time since I’d bought any. I had to ask the clerk to help me find it. There was a whole aisle of those sports drinks and the kool-aid was at the very end but it’s still the same as when I used to...”

His smile dimmed as hers did.

“I’m sorry I’ve not come sooner, Gamma.”

She hadn’t meant to make him feel guilty. She hadn’t blamed Lyanna for moving back North when Jon was twelve though she’d only seen him a handful of times over the past twelve years because of it. Lyanna had her own life to live and had said she’d be better off closer to her relatives. And from everything Rhaella had heard from Lyanna and Jon, they’d both been quite content there. But she’d missed them.

“Don’t be sorry, Jon. Eastwatch is a very long ways from Kings Landing.”

“Well, yeah…but I meant since I started the program here, I’ve been meaning to visit.”

“And I’m sure there was lots to do getting settled some place new and with your classes starting.” He opened his mouth to argue but she shook her head. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters to me.”

“I’m going to come visit regularly now if that’s alright. I’ve got Wednesdays off from classes and work both, plus my Sundays are free if I don’t have too much studying to do. It’s not like I’ve got any friends here since I just moved here and it’s not that far really.”

“Sweetheart, you’re bound to find other things you’d rather do than hang out with an old woman.”

He glossed right over her deprecating. “I’d like…I want…” He looked unsure how to say it but Rhaella couldn’t help him out since her throat felt like it was closing up with emotion. “We were so close when I was little.”

They had been. Even with two children of her own still in the home, one younger than Jon even, they had been very close. She’d kept him for Lyanna as often as Lyanna had asked and when Rhaegar had him…well, Jon had wound up over at Rhaella’s house more often than not. Unless Aerys was in a mood.

She’d had to protect her children and her grandson from his rages more than once. Rhaegar had grown up mostly oblivious to it since Aerys had controlled things better early on. Viserys had been sweet as a child but, as he grew, his own demons came out, reminding Rhaella of his father. They'd tried therapy and medication but nothing seemed to stem his wrath and he was constantly in trouble with the law by the time he was twenty. It had broken Rhaella’s heart.

Daenerys had been daddy’s girl from the start which Rhaella hadn't minded initially. But she’d only been eleven when they’d divorced and, since the divorce had been initiated by her mother, all her sympathy had gone to Aerys who was good at playing the victim when it suited him. The bond between mother and daughter when Daenerys had been a child had been strained and then broken over time by mistrust and resentment. 

But Jon had been afraid of his grandfather from a very young age and Rhaella had always feared she’d missed something. She’d also wondered if it wasn’t Lyanna leaving with Jon which had finally made Rhaella brave enough to leave her husband.

She felt his warm hand grasping hers. “Anyway, I’ve missed that and I’d like it if we could…oh gods! Gamma, I’m sorry!”

“Don’t you dare be sorry, Jon!” she sobbed, wiping at her eyes and waving off his apologies as he rose to hug her where she sat at her table crying like a ninny. “I’d just really love that, alright? I’d love that more than anything.”

“Alright then.”

Once he’d sat back down and she’d composed herself again, Jon glanced over at the crayon drawings on her fridge.

“Are those from Ellie?”

“Yes.” She smiled fondly at the kitties and rainbows her great-granddaughter had doodled which Rhaenys had sent last month. “Rhae sends me letters and Ellie’s drawings pretty frequently.”

“I guess Dorne is nearly as far as Eastwatch.”

“It is,” she said, not bothering to hide her disappointment for a moment. “It’s alright. I have friends here.”

“I’m glad of that. I met one of your neighbors when I arrived. Hoster Tully?”

“Oh Hoster! Yes, he’s next door in 905. Widower, lived in the Riverlands all his life, had a house in Riverrun, two daughters and a son.”

“You’ve got the whole dossier, huh?”

She laughed and nodded. “Well, I do have plenty of time on my hands to get to know folks here.”

He scrubbed at his beard in an endearingly boyish way the next moment and she feared he was feeling guilty again until he said, “He was with his granddaughter when I ran into him. I thought she might work here but she said she’s a nursing student.”

“You mean Sansa.”

His eyes flashed with interest. “Yes, do you know her?”

“No. I hear about her all the time from Hoster but we’ve only waved.”

“Oh right.” Those grey eyes were no longer shining quite so bright. _Interesting_.

“She’s in her third year of the undergraduate nursing program at Riverlands.”

“Is she now? I mean, that’s great.”

“You might see her again on campus.”

“Yeah. Well…maybe. The nursing school’s on the far side from where I am.” He grinned, a slight flush creeping up his cheeks. _Well now, what have we here?_ “Anyway, she seemed very nice. And Mr. Tully seemed…”

“Grumpy?”

“A little,” he grimaced.

“You’ve just got to get used to him. He’s alright. Certainly fine company compared to some.”

Rhaella stood to take Jon’s glass to the sink. When she sat back down, Jon was looking at her thoughtfully.

“How’ve you been here, Gamma?”

“Alright. I have friends, as I said.”

“Has Dad been out to visit lately?”

“Seven months ago, second visit since he moved me here. I get a phone call twice a month on the 1st and the 15th. He must set himself a reminder on his phone or whatever you kids do.” He frowned. “It’s alright, Jon. Your father is a dutiful son, just not terribly…”

“Affectionate.”

Now, she was frowning. Jon and Rhaegar’s relationship was strained at best these days. “It’s alright, Jon.”

“What about Aunt Dany?”

She sniffed. “It’s been three months since her last visit and I’m certain it will be at least another three months before the next.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I…” She hesitated. Even though it still hurt, even though she would still grow angry when she recalled that day, it was hard to admit all the unpleasantness to her grandson though he was no child.

“Because you what?”

“You know that man she’s been living with?”

“Daario? I don’t know him but I’ve heard about him through Rhaenys.”

“They came here together the last time she visited. He’s charming but it’s an oily sort of charm if you understand me. Anyway, he asked to get some water but when I decided to get up and help him find a glass, I found him in my bathroom instead taking inventory of my medicine cabinet.”

Jon groaned and rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath.

“I asked him what he thought he was doing and he said he had a headache. I told him my anti-inflammatories and anti-depressant wouldn’t help with that. Daenerys heard us and flew into one of her tantrums.”

“At him?” Jon asked though Rhaella could tell by his tone he knew better.

“No, at me for embarrassing her and her boyfriend.”

“That bitch.” His eyes flew open wide no sooner than he’d said it. “I'm sorry, Gamma. I shouldn't have said that.”

She laughed and shook her head. “No, you probably shouldn't say that but I understand the anger. And, you’re not a little boy, Jon. I’ve heard much worse language than that over the years. Come on, let’s not talk about them. I’m glad you’re here and I want to hear about your studies. Let’s take a stroll down the sidewalk together where I can show off my handsome grandson while we’re at it.”

“Show me off, huh?”

“Oh yes. Us old ladies aren’t dead yet and you’ll give all the girls a thrill.” He was flushing adorably under that scholarly beard of his. “And I might as well introduce you to my neighbors if you’re going to be coming ‘round here and there, right?”

_And maybe reintroduce you to one of their granddaughters if I can manage it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here, I've got nothing but an outline but my plan is a Hoster POV next chapter and some grandparent plotting before we see some of university life. I think after our Christmas Quarantine is finished I'll be able to shift back into working on my WIPs again *fingers crossed* 
> 
> Hope you all are well!


	4. Hoster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never in my life have I written a Hoster Tully POV but here we go...

Ordinarily, Hoster would be more than ready to head inside his place and turn on some _Jeopardy_ at this time of day. He could still recall watching it nearly every evening with Minisa. When Sansa would be visiting, she’d watch with them, always marveling that her grandparents knew a bunch of trivia that didn’t really amount to a hill of beans.

_“We’re old so we’ve picked up a few things over the years,”_ he’d told his granddaughter.

_“Speak for yourself, Hoster Tully,”_ Minisa had sniffed playfully. _“Some of us paid attention in class and weren’t busy putting tacks in the teacher’s chair.”_

_“You’re right, doll face. I’m just old but your grandma’s a genius, Sansa. Lucky me catching a girl like her, huh?”_

And nevertheless, the first time his little darling had piped up with the correct response to one of those questions, they’d both beamed at her, declaring her the smartest eleven-year-old around. It wasn’t false praise either. She was always smart as a tack just as he’d told her earlier.

But before they could reach his place, they had to pass by Rhaella’s and, by the way Sansa clutched his arm just a bit tighter when they saw Jon Snow surrounded by two admirers and his grandmother, Hoster knew he wasn’t going to just pass on by.

“Shall we say hello?”

“Would that be weird?” she answered nervously as her cheeks colored.

Oh gods, she was too adorable. This was generally Minisa’s area of expertise when it came to their granddaughter but he’d picked up more than some game show trivia over the years. “It’s just ‘hello,’ darling. Come on.”

He was not remotely surprised to see them outside. It was a nice day and Rhaella was always out in that little flower box of hers when possible tending her roses while wearing her straw hat like Ellie May. He’d just not expected to see the boy holding garden clippers and being directed by three different women about the proper way to choose and snip a damn rose blossom off a bush.

“Well, well…we meet again, Jon Snow. And I see you found your gamma at last.”

The kid winced for half a second at the gamma but his attention was fully on Sansa as he held a rose in his hand and he was smiling shyly at her. His lips were awfully red though. Had he been eating candy or something?

“Rhaella, I know you’ve heard about her but I don’t think I’ve ever introduced you to Sansa. Sansa, this is my neighbor, Rhaella Targaryen. Finest Bingo Night partner around and a regular fire-breathing dragon when it comes to Monopoly.”

Rhaella chuckled at his compliments before reaching for Sansa’s hand. “No, you have not introduced us, Hoster, but I’ve seen this angel countless times coming up the walk. So, have you met my grandson Jon already, Sansa? He’s a law student at Riverlands. Why, I believe you may have mentioned Sansa going there, haven’t you, Hoster? What are you studying there, dear?”

“Gamma, I told you I’d met them earlier. She told me she was in the nursing program and you told me she was in her third year of it.”

Rhaella and Hoster both pursed their lips at the same time. Youth is wasted on the young sometimes.

Hoster shook his head at Captain Correct but Sansa glossed right over the gaff. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Targaryen, and it’s nice to see you again, Jon,” she finished a little more quietly, her cheeks about the same shade of red as his lips.

Sansa then smiled at the rest of their company and gave his ribs a subtle nudge. Always polite, just like Cat had raised her. “Oh and this here’s Mabel and Layla. They’re not much at Monopoly but Mabel makes some delicious cakes and Layla can kick my ass at golf.”

“Which I’ll happily do again,” Layla said before asking Rhaella about her roses. They were exceptionally pretty. “Are you going to put that one Jon picked in a vase?”

“Oh, I’ve already got a freshly picked rose in my bud vase inside. Maybe someone else would want it,” Rhaella said, giving Jon a nudge this time.

“Uh…I…it’s your rose, Gamma, but if you want me to, um…”

Poor kid was like a deer in headlights as he glanced between Sansa and the two old gals showing off their dentures in hopes of getting that rose from him. Hoster suspected there was one lady present he wanted to give it to but that he didn’t want to offend the other two gals. Needless to say, his opinion of Jon Snow was positively impacted by that.

“Oh, it’s Yaya’s birthday tomorrow, isn’t it?” Sansa said. Sweet girl that she was, she’d made a point of getting to know the staff on top of discussing her career plans with some of them. She was also good at rescuing folks from awkward situations. “I’m sure she’d love to have it if you don’t mind, Mrs. Targaryen.”

Hoster could’ve laughed out loud at the look of relief on the kid’s face. “The lady up at the reception desk? Yeah, I can give it to her on my way out if you like, Gamma.”

“Well, of course. What a sweet notion, Sansa. Yaya is such a dear. But would you two want to come inside for something to drink? I made cherry kool-aid for Jon if you like it, Sansa. He always loved it as a little boy.”

Mortified didn’t even begin to cover the expression on Jon’s face or the sympathy Hoster felt for him. To Hoster, he might be a kid but he was obviously a man and what man wanted his gamma talking about stuff like that in front of a pretty gal?

But Sansa on the other hand started giggling and said she could readily go for a glass of that. Come to think of it, Minisa used to keep it around for whenever the grandkids visited. Maybe they never outgrew it? Hoster wondered if he could get away with having a glass too on top of the ice cream sandwich.

They bid adieu to Mabel and Layla and went inside Rhaella’s place. Jon washed the dirt from his hands as Rhaella poured two glasses of kool-aid…and handed him a diet soda.

“Don’t you pout at me, old man,” she told him with a smirk. “I know you’re supposed to watch your sweets.”

The drawbacks of bitching about one’s doctor visit over Bingo. “I don’t like kool-aid anyway, Ellie May,” he grumbled.

* * *

Considering he’d never actively tried to set two people up in his entire life, Hoster thought he was plenty subtle with his comments over drinks while the four of them watched _Jeopardy_.

Jon answered nearly as many questions correctly as Hoster did (which didn’t even annoy him all that much.) _Not a dumb jock like Dickey then._

“Is Mabel still planning on organizing a dance next month here, Rhaella?”

He got a sly grin. “Sounds like it.”

“Let’s hope Walder don’t break a hip doing the jitterbug. Or maybe we do hope that.”

“Hoster…” Rhaella laughed before adding very casually, “We’ll need some volunteers to help though.” Never a question that Rhaella knew what o’clock it was.

“Oh, I could help, Mrs. Targaryen,” Sansa offered at once.

“That’s so kind of you, Sansa. I’ll tell Mabel we’ve got someone willing to lend a hand.”

Jon was still busy nailing every answer to the Marvel movies category and didn’t notice his grandmother’s intent look right away. _Kids and their comic books._

“Perhaps you could help with our little dance here, too?” Rhaella prompted after he’d got the Daily Double right and was smiling at them all.

“Uh, sure. I’ve never organized anything like that but I can lift and carry stuff where I’m pointed to go at least.”

The kid was pretty sharp. Hoster had to give him that. Of course, he supposed he would be to get into law school.

The atmosphere was pretty relaxed overall and seeing Rhaella so happy made Hoster happy. Whether or not anything happened between their grandkids, he hoped Jon Snow would make good on his word about coming by regularly to visit. Rhaella deserved that.

All the same (and even though it wasn’t that Hoster wanted to think too hard on his granddaughter’s love life), if old Dickey had been a disappointment for his girl, Hoster thought it’d be nice if she found a good guy to give her some attention, show her a nice time.

_But if he’s not good to her, I’ll get after him with my cane if I have to._

Seriously though, he knew something had been eating at Sansa of late even if she’d not been very forthcoming over it. They shared stuff but Sansa, like most girls her age, had things going on in her life that she didn’t share with her grandfather. That was alright but he wanted to help if he could.

As Sansa and Jon both mentioned it being about time for them to make the drive back, Hoster thought they might need a minute or two on their own. _And maybe the kid might think to ask for her number…_

“Maybe you kids can chat outside a sec while Rhaella and I discuss our Bingo strategy for Saturday night.”

He thought that had been fairly subtle but based on the look Sansa had shot his way, he might’ve missed the mark. _Well, we might just stand in here and laugh over your matching kool-aid moustaches but I won’t say that to you._

At least, Rhaella wasn’t much better than him. “Why, yes. We do need to be ready for the, um…next round. Jon, why don’t you and Sansa take that rose down to Yaya so she can put it in some water?”

“Well, I was just going to stop there on my way out but I have only met her once actually so would you mind going with me, Sansa?”

“Sure, Jon. I’d love to.”

* * *

An hour later, Hoster was hanging out at the center as night was setting in. It had been a pleasant day and the rocking chairs on the back porch there were calling his name. Plus, it was Mallister’s birthday and Mabel had baked a cake.

Oh, he was watching his sweets. Didn’t need any trouble with his doc, his blood sugars or Sansa but that mini ice cream sandwich was long gone and one little square wouldn’t hurt. Plus, he’d done a good deal of watching two youngsters making eyes at each other so he figured he’d earned it.

Of course, the rocking chairs at the center were popular and he didn’t figure he’d have them all to himself.

“Sansa leave already, Hos?” Mallister, the Birthday Boy, asked.

“Yeah, about an hour ago. Don’t want her driving back after dark.” Yes, his granddaughter was more than capable of driving after dark and making her way back to her dormitory then but he worried and she knew it. She humored him.

“Who was that boy I saw earlier around Rhaella’s place?” Walder asked sourly from the other side of Mallister.

“Rhaella’s grandson. Didn’t you figure that out when they were walking around earlier and saying howdy-do to nearly everyone who was out and about?”

“They didn’t say howdy-do to me.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re a nasty old fart and Ellie steers clear of nasty old farts.”

“Hmph. Guess being married to one would do that to a lady. But I thought that kid had silver hair.”

“Nah, it’s another one.”

That one had only come around once to Hoster’s knowledge and Rhaella had said he’d hit her up for some cash before disappearing again and not calling, the little fucker. He thought that Jon was different. He prayed he was for Rhaella’s sake.

_And if he doesn’t wind up falling for my Sansa before all is said and done, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle._


	5. Jon

Was Jon Snow smooth when it came to women?

_“Did you know you’ve got a Kool-aid Mustache?”_

Sansa’s face had paled at his words and she’d started scrubbing vigorously at her upper lip.

No, the answer to the question above would be a ‘no.’

_This is what you say to the beautiful girl you met a couple of hours ago?! And after your own grandmother seemed so keen to set you up?!_

He hadn’t done that much better from that point on during their walk to the rec center with the rose for Yaya.

_“That really is a beautiful rose,”_ Sansa had commented. _“Does it smell nice?”_

_“Yeah, it does. Here, you can have it.”_ He’d handed it over, just like he’d wanted to hand it to her in the first place. Gods, that little blush on her cheeks when he’d done it had been something to see, too.

But then…

_“You can hold it until we get to Yaya anyway.”_

Sansa had blinked a time or two and quickly nodded, the pink of pleasure on her cheeks becoming more like the red of mortification. Godsdamn, why hadn’t he just thought to snip another rose for her?! Surely, Gamma wouldn’t have minded all that much. And why hadn’t he thought to ask Sansa for her number or offered his own while they were walking too?

_Well, it might’ve been too forward this soon. She might have a boyfriend or…_

_A little forward is called for once in a while, man! Where are your balls? Jon Snow, you know nothing about wooing women. Fucking pathetic._

Granted, he didn’t have much wooing experience. He'd 'found' himself involved with someone more than anything when he'd entered his first serious undergrad relationship with Ygritte (who had been on the assertive side to put it mildly.) Things had been enjoyable enough for a couple of months before the differences between them had become too glaring to ignore. 

_And extracting myself from it had turned ugly._

Filing that restraining order had been his first real brush with the criminal justice system. It had opened his eyes to how woefully inadequate it was in several respects and instilled in him a wish to make a difference if he could.

Anyway, he'd failed to ask Sansa for her number, being too chicken, but their initial meeting had ended on a good note all the same. They’d made Yaya smile with the rose and then talked a little about their grandparents, Oldstones, Riverlands and campus life on their way back to say their farewells to the two Bingo Night strategists.

The follow Wednesday though, Sansa wasn’t visiting Hoster when Jon came to see his grandmother and a little insecure part of him hoped he wasn't the reason. He also reminded himself that the person he was here for was standing right beside him and that’s what mattered which was true…but he had been pinning more than a small bit of hope on seeing Sansa again. _And maybe not making a complete fool of myself this time._

Of course, Jon didn't appear to be the only one missing Sansa. 

“So, where is Sansa?” Gamma finally came out and asked when her curiosity couldn't take it anymore and they’d managed to convince Hoster to come in and watch Jeopardy with them.

“Had to meet with her advisor. Something about her schedule changing is what she said,” Hoster answered before correctly answering the Daily Double on Military History. Jon was a bit of a history buff and had considered pursuing a degree in that before he’d settled on the law but Hoster was kicking his ass.

“Oh, it seems sort of late in the semester for a schedule change, doesn’t it?”

Jon had to agree with his grandmother. Midterms would be starting in a couple of weeks. Any schedule changes were usually completed within the first two weeks of the semester starting or you’d risk being horribly behind.

“Well, that’s what she said and Sansa doesn’t lie to me,” Hoster answered curtly.

“No one was suggesting she would, Hoster,” Gamma said soothingly. She was an old hand at dealing with hot heads but Jon already had figured out that Hoster was more bark than bite.

“Sorry, Ellie. Don’t mean to snap. I worry is all." 

Jon couldn't blame Hoster for that. On a side note, Jon had never known Ellie to be a nickname for his grandmother but he supposed they were friends and around the same age and, if she was Gamma to Jon, there was no reason she couldn't be Ellie to Hoster. If there was more to it than that, Jon wasn't sure he wanted to know. 

"I mean, she was okay during the summer break when she was doing that internship but something’s been eating at my girl since classes started back and I don’t know what. She says everything is fine. Even after the break up with that dummy, she hadn’t complained really but…”

Jon’s eyes widened and, if he hadn’t already been fully paying attention, he would be now. Even the Galaxy Far, Far Away category, a decent chance for him to save face in this round, couldn’t tempt him. Sansa’s relationship status was something he had not worked up the nerve to ask about the previous week.

“Anyway, you know how…” Hoster glanced at Jon who knew he was being nosy but was also doing his best to not appear _too_ nosy. “You know how kids can be, thinking they’ve got to figure it all out on their own and that us old folks won’t understand.”

Jon looked down at his lap then because, honestly, if he was having some sort of personal problem, he wasn’t sure he’d hurry to tell his grandmother either. Even when he’d been little and Aerys had come home early that day, Jon had kept it from her, afraid to tell her something that might upset her. And as a little kid, he’d been scared she might take Aerys’ side and be angry at him.

“I'm sure she’ll say something when she’s ready, Hoster. Or maybe she’ll find someone closer to her age who she feels comfortable enough to talk it over with one of these days,” his grandmother added, giving Jon a gentle nudge with her knee.

He wouldn’t mind being that ear to bend if Sansa ever wanted it. But he’d only met her last week and he figured they were a good ways off from sharing just anything yet.

* * *

Friday night near eleven found Jon like it normally did, alone and heading back from the library to his vehicle so he could make the drive to his little, cramped flat a few minutes from campus. 

He was already nearly convinced his Civ Pro professor was a sadist who existed purely to drive First Years insane and Fridays always found him with a heap of work to sort through as it was but today he’d called the cranky old bastard out when he’d caught him in a mistake. Which was probably a mistake on Jon’s part. 

Actually, Thorn had been humiliating Grenn in front of the class when he’d cited something incorrectly. Grenn might not be the most brilliant of students but he was also the one person who was something like a friend to Jon here thus far and Thorne shouldn’t have been acting all high and mighty about Grenn’s mistake when he was busy making one of his own.

Grenn had looked ready to expire on the spot from shock as Thorne had been swelling up with rage.

Jon Snow didn’t start fights as a general rule. He’d rather finish them. But Thorne had been wrong and Jon had simply (albeit a bit smugly) pointed it out. 

Of course, in the student-professor relationship, he was at a disadvantage. _“I have the high ground, Mr. Snow,”_ the pompous ass had actually said with his whole chest. 

_We’re not fighting with swords here, for fuck’s sake…prick._

Anyway, he’d wound up with some extra ‘research’ to turn in Monday and he wanted to get as much done as possible tonight because he’d promised Gamma and her friend Mabel that he’d take them to fetch supplies for the center’s upcoming dance tomorrow.

The dance was still two weeks away but one thing he’d learned long ago was that when Gamma decided she wanted something done, she was ready for it to get done…like yesterday. 

Honestly, Jon was looking forward to seeing her tomorrow. Even with her friend tagging along, there was something kind of comforting about hanging out with her at Oldstones. Better than more studying in a silent flat at least. Gods, he missed home and Ghost lately. 

And he would also admit he was looking forward to that dance. Even if Sansa had to stop coming to visit Hoster on Wednesdays, he could probably count on seeing her there. 

_Be nice if I had a pretty girl there to play chaperone with. And maybe I’ll ask her to dance..._

_Hope springs eternal that you won’t muck that up like the rose thing._

_Oh, ye of little faith._

Obviously, they weren’t chaperoning the dance of their elders but they’d both agreed to help out and he didn’t think a class schedule change would lead to Sansa missing a Saturday night event. 

As he walked along campus towards the lot where he’d parked his SUV, he drew closer to some of the residence halls which were growing noisy this time of night on a Friday. He heard a few guys, drunk from the sounds of it, calling out lewd things and grimaced. Some guys were such dickweeds. 

Sure enough, there were a couple of girls walking down the sidewalk about thirty feet or so ahead of him. It appeared they’d just left the building. One seemed to be supporting the other. They were walking as fast as they could manage. Clearly, they were the recipients of the cat-calls. Their tense posture, turned heads and speed was a sure sign they weren’t impressed or pleased by the attention. 

“What’s your hurry, girls? Party’s just started. Come on back, Beth!” one of the guys was saying. 

“It’s time for us to go,” one of the women answered loudly enough for Jon to hear.

“Come on, Beth. Don’t be a bitch.”

“Shut up, Flement!” the same women shouted back. 

“Hey, Brax…just tell the friend to come back,” another one of the guys said, chortling as he added in a stage whisper, “I’ve got twenty dragons that says she’d be some primo-choice pussy in the sack.” 

“I think you dropped something, sweetness,” a third one said. “Why don’t you bend over and check?”

Laughter from the other two and, like vultures circling, they started heading down the lawn towards the sidewalk where the girls were.

The second one started cupping himself through his joggers. “Hey, Red! You wanna check out my-”

“FUCKING SEVEN HELLS! LEAVE THEM THE FUCK ALONE! GO INSIDE AND CHOKE ON YOUR OWN VOMIT OR SOMETHING!”

Jon Snow did not start fights as a general rule. He’d rather finish them. But, while he didn’t particularly want to get into a brawl with three drunk guys, there was a limit of what he’d stand by and tolerate. When it came to others being threatened or picked on, it didn’t take much to reach that limit.

His roar had caught the three dickweeds off guard and they all jumped pretty comically. Maybe they thought he was campus security for half a second but they stumbled back towards the doorway of their dormitory as one of the two ladies spun at the sound of his voice.

“Jon? Is that you?”

“Sansa?” 

Holy shit, it _was_ Sansa. Red. That guy had called her Red and he’d called her primo…oh, now Jon was seeing red. He wished he had Hoster’s cane at the moment. He eyed all three of the dickweeds. He wasn’t brawny or anything but his look seemed to be enough to have them creeping even closer to their dormitory. _Fucking cowards…typical._

He closed the distance between the girls and himself swiftly then, checking to see if they looked injured. No visible injuries had him sighing with relief but Sansa’s friend seemed to barely be capable of standing on her own and she reeked of liquor. 

“She texted me. She doesn’t drink like this normally but she's been depressed since the breakup and I knew I needed to come get her and get her away from them. Can you help me take her back to our dormitory?” Sansa asked him.

“Yeah, of course, I can,” he replied…just as her friend barfed all over his feet. 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” the poor girl said, nearly weeping.

“Jon, I’m so sorry,” Sansa repeated as she pulled out some napkins from her bag to offer her friend and him. 

He waved them both off. He may not be a nursing student like Sansa and he wasn’t a fan of vomit but he’d dealt with his share of drunk friends in his own undergrad days. Plus, those assholes were still at his back and he’d rather get the girls away from here.

“Don't worry. They’re just shoes. What’s your name, Sansa’s friend?”

“Beth,” she answered with a flicker of a grateful smile. “You really don’t have to-”

“Okay, Beth. I’m Jon and my gamma and Sansa’s grandpa would absolutely expect me to help a lady in need so I'll be your escort back to your dorm. Do you feel any better after that?”

“Some.”

“I’d say it won’t be the last round but think you can walk for a bit?”

“Yeah, with help.”

“Okay, lead the way for me, Sansa.” 

Sansa gave him a smile that made his belly knot up in a good way before he wrapped an arm around Beth, letting her full weight sag against him. They followed her quietly while Jon wondered what the full story was here and if it had anything to do with the stuff Hoster worried over. Nevertheless, he kept his mouth shut. That would be up to Sansa if she wanted to share any of it with him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise no real harm has befallen Beth Cassel beyond too much alcohol and a dick for an ex. 
> 
> Sorry to cut it there but I wanted to pick up the next bit from Sansa's POV. We'll have some Jonsa talking next chapter and some more time at Oldstones the next day when Sansa and Jon both take Rhaella and Mabel our for their errands.


	6. Sansa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to General Crow in particular for putting a certain Florian/Jonquil quote in my mind last chapter :)

“ _A fool and a knight, Grandpa? That doesn’t sound right.”_

_“Oh but he was, darling. Florian was both. Jonquil said the same thing as you in fact and his reply was pretty slick, I’ll say.”_

_“What did he say?”_

_“‘Sweet lady, all men are fools and all men are knights where women are concerned.’ How’s that for pitching some woo at a gal?”_

Sansa had giggled at her grandpa’s silliness that sunny summer day out by the rabbit hutch but had always remembered the quote, usually accompanied by a girlish sigh.

Not that she considered Jon Snow a fool in the least. Despite the Tease of the Rose ( _and why should he have given it to me in particular? I wasn’t my birthday and I wasn’t the only woman present…even if I was the only one born in the same decade as him_ ) and the Kool-Aid Moustache Comment ( _not gonna lie, still mortified by that_ ), she’d enjoyed his company that whole afternoon.

She’d certainly enjoyed him getting a little befuddled over the wolf bit when they’d first met but what she’d truly loved was his obvious sweetness with his grandmother and his kindness and intelligence in general. And it wasn’t as if she’d had the smoothest of boyfriends to compare him to anyway. 

“Which way?” Jon asked her, drawing Sansa from her thoughts and memories.

“Oh, we’re up the stairs, third door to the right.”

Poor Beth had made it this far but she groaned pitifully at the sight of the stairwell.

“This is one of the oldest residence halls on campus. It’s got some beautiful architecture and stained glass but the elevator was added nearly a century ago and is temperamental at best."

"I got stuck in it for four hours once." Beth shuddered for emphasis. 

"Yeah, it’s been down all day today and probably not worth risk,” Sansa added with an apologetic look.

“Yikes. Sounds like a lawsuit in the making someday.”

“Sansa said you were a law student,” Beth said a little dazedly.

Sansa didn’t miss the way his lips twitched as his eyes flashed her way. _Yes, I’ve mentioned you to my best friend._

“Alright, stairs it is for safety’s sake,” Jon decided before lifting Beth up into his arms as if she weighed nearly nothing at all and trudging up the steps in his shoes covered with drying vomit.

_This one’s more of a knight than a fool, Grandpa._

“Ooh, you were right, Sansa. He must work out a lot,” Beth giggled before her head lolled back onto Jon’s shoulder and she started humming to herself.

Another brief flash of those dark grey eyes before he was back to watching his footing. 

With her face on fire and while meanly pondering how much noise she could get away with tomorrow morning while someone was getting over her hangover, Sansa busied herself pulling out her key.

* * *

“On a scale from 1 to Infinity, how ridiculous do I look right now?”

“Oh, one at most if that even!” she swore. 

He raised his eyebrows, gave her a wry look and her solemn declaration was ruined by her giggles. She didn’t care. Her overly large Wiley Wolf slippers that Robb had given her on her last name day had good rubber soles at least and looked adorable on Jon’s bare feet. 

“Just don’t tell your grandpa I was wearing them,” he muttered but she could see the grin trying to break through.

“Oh, Grandpa has a pair of Truman Trout ones so he can’t say anything.”

“Truman Trout?! The grumpy old fish that’s always on Wiley’s case?!”

“That’s the one. My grandma bought them for him one year and he still has them. But don’t tell him I told you that!” 

He playfully pretended to zip his lips and Sansa felt a swooping sensation in her tummy, something like giddiness. _Or infatuation_. 

“Come on, we’re nearly there,” she begged to keep him following her to the closest campus caffeine house, afraid to analyze that swooping sensation too closely this early. 

_Might have a girlfriend back home or even here for all you know_. She'd need to do some recon. 

Meanwhile, she’d offered Jon the use of their bath to wash his shoes and socks as best he could while she’d been tucking Beth into bed. Thus, the Wiley slippers for him. 

Her friend was snoozing peacefully now thankfully after a disappointing evening. _Oh Beth, when are you going to realize Flement isn’t worthy of you?_ Not that Beth was the first co-ed by far to have a jerk for an ex-boyfriend and mistake a crass booty call for a potential romantic apology and declaration of undying devotion. 

Her and her friend could discuss all that tomorrow. At the moment, Sansa didn’t want to part company with Jon Snow just yet. 

The bell clanged softly as they pushed open the door and Sansa ushered him to a table. “This is my treat as thanks for helping us get away from those losers and helping get Beth home safely while we wait for your shoes and socks to dry.”

“Thanks but you don’t have to do this, Sansa.”

“I couldn’t send you back out into the cold with wet shoes and socks.”

“It’s not that cold. I’m from the North.”

“So am I but walking around with wet socks and shoes can cause blisters. Plus, the southerners’ laughable idea of a chill can lull us into a false sense of security sometimes. Now, have some coffee or tea. My treat. Whatever you want. No arguments. Nurse’s orders.” 

“Whatever I want, huh, bossy nurse?” She almost apologized until he chuckled and added, “Lucky me,” as he looked down at the very limited menu which was taped to the table. 

His voice had dipped in such a promising manner there when he said ‘lucky me’ which took Sansa’s mind off down an unintended path. She was still holding a hand to her rapidly warming cheek when the server came up. 

Once they’d got their drinks, coffee for Jon and tea for herself and agreed to split an enormous muffin, she realized Jon was observing her thoughtfully. She was almost afraid he knew what she’d been thinking a few minutes earlier so he surprised her when he said, “We missed you for _Jeopardy_ on Wednesday, especially during the Medicine category.”

“Sorry. I hated to miss seeing him. Grandpa said you cleaned house in the Politics category.” 

He gave her a small smile. “Poli-Sci minor. Popular for would-be lawyers.” 

“I’m sorry I missed the game and the visit. I would’ve loved seeing you and your grandmother again, too. I had an appointment with my advisor regarding a class change.”

“Things come up. I know he understood that. But a class change? Kind of late in the semester for that, isn’t it?” His tone was slightly leading but light enough to ignore if she chose to. 

“Yeah, it is. Things come up,” she said, borrowing his phrase. 

She continued cradling her tea mug, thinking things through. She heard him take a long sip of his coffee. He was quiet but not making it feel awkward. She didn’t think Jon would push her to elaborate but she knew he’d listen if she did. In fact, it would be nice to unburden herself to someone besides Beth in this instance. With her eyes on the Wiley Wolf slippers, she made up her mind. 

“Actually, Dean Blackwood was there at my meeting, too.”

“The Dean?” She nodded slowly before meeting his eyes again. “That sounds serious, Sansa.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “It kind of is…or was. It’s mostly handled now. I’m not sure how to tell grandpa or if I should though.”

He let go of his own mug and gently pressed the back of his hand against hers which was still cradling the mug. “I’m here and listening to whatever you want to say if you want to tell me but there’s no pressure either.”

No pressure but he was here and he was listening and she liked him and knew that her grandpa did, too. “Am I under oath?” she asked in what she hoped was a playful tone. 

He gave a short bark of a laugh. “No.” But he grew serious again just as quickly. “Sansa, I hope you’re alright. I hope no one has…hurt you or...”

“No one has hurt me physically but let me tell you about my former suitemate and Professor Baelish.”

* * *

_“Petyr Baelish? He’s your professor?!"_

_“Yes, Grandpa. Do you know him?”_

_“Sure do. Known him since he was knee-high to a grasshopper. Scrawny little kid with coke-bottle glasses from down the block. Played with Edmure quite a bit, always out in the yard though. Minisa didn’t like the boys traipsing through the house with muddy shoes too much. Gods, he was always following your mom around all moony-eyed from the age of twelve, I think, not that your mom much noticed. And then poor Lysa was doing the same by him. Probably dodged a bullet there. He was a pretty clever kid actually from what I’d heard. Not that surprised he’d wind up a professor.”_

Grandpa hadn’t really said anything negative about Professor Baelish and so Sansa hadn’t wanted to share her own concerns regarding him. 

And at first, her concerns regarding Mr. Baelish in particular had seemed insignificant. Standing a little too close, too quick to place a hand on an elbow or shoulder, vaguely suggestive remarks, staring a little too long in the wrong directions, it had built up gradually last semester. They'd been things that were easy to shrug off, telling herself she was being overreactive or silly. But this semester, it had been a little harder to ignore. 

Then, Desmera had come into Sansa and Beth’s side of the dorm when both girls were away one afternoon two weeks into the semester and stolen Sansa’s Pharmacology paper. She'd turned it in as her own before Sansa had finished her last-minute edits and turned her nearly identical copy in. She'd been called into Baelish's office a few days later, gobsmacked to be accused of plagiarism. 

She’d been so wounded when she’d realized what Desmera had done, someone she’d considered a friend up until then. It had also proved an impossible task to convince Mr. Baelish that it was Sansa’s work which had been stolen and not the other way around since Desmera had copied Sansa’s notes onto her laptop as well and then got her version turned in first. 

So, Mr. Baelish had set them both a separate assignment, basically another paper to write.

“That wasn’t fair.”

“Maybe not but I could understand his position and I wanted a chance to prove myself. At least, I told myself that before he started getting…extra creepy.”

“I’ll bet he knew that was your work all along though! And he was taking advantage of the situation to…gods, I was pissed at those guys earlier but now I’m…I’m...I'm…” 

He gesticulated angrily in the air, nearly upsetting his coffee mug. She could almost picture him in front of a jury in her mind, passionately arguing some fact of some case and getting stymied by emotion but she appreciated him taking her side. 

He calmed himself enough to ask, “So what led to the meeting on Wednesday?”

“I got the second paper back. He gave me a barely passing grade. When I asked him why he said I’d need to arrange a meeting with him to discuss it privately. He then slipped me a piece of paper with some address off campus. I’m not stupid. There was no way I was going to go meet him alone anywhere.”

“Smart decision. What’s going to happen now?” 

“I’ve been moved out of his Pharmacology class. He’s suspended for the time being and under investigation but it’s his T.A. who’s teaching in his place so Dean Blackwood thought it’d be better to remove me from it altogether.”

“Does that mess you up with your credits and such?”

“The dean promised they’ll figure something out. I guess I’m in limbo for now until then.” 

"That's really un-fucking-fair, Sansa." 

She shrugged like it didn’t matter which of course it did. It mattered a lot. And what if no one ever believed that it wasn’t Sansa who’d committed the plagiarism? What if that followed her around the rest of her university career? What if…

It’d all been a huge ball of building stress really, between Beth’s ugly breakup with Flement in the spring, after her own disappointment with Dickon at the start of summer and then the mounting and bizarre hostility she couldn't understand with Desmera prior to the whole paper stealing and having to continue to share the same bathroom with that bitch for three weeks until they finally got her moved and Professor Creepy’s oily words and hands on her shoulder and…

“Sorry,” she whispered, hating so much that she was about to cry in public in front of a handsome guy she barely knew but wanted to know better and all because university life was apparently too much for her to hack. 

She’d been back to staring blindly at the Wiley Wolf slippers. Honestly, she hadn’t even realized they’d moved until she felt his warmth beside her. But when he said, “Hey, it’s okay,” and opened his arms, she didn’t even feel that self-conscious about turning into his shoulder to cry for a bit.

* * *

They’d met some friend of his on the way out of the coffee shop who immediately started howling with laughter over the Wiley slippers.

_“Wiley’s the coolest wolf I know,”_ Sansa had said frostily in defense of her slippers but even more so in defense of Jon. 

His friend had nodded and collected himself. _“You’re right. I was more of a Homer Hound guy."_

_"Homer was sweet but kind of a dope."_

_"Yeah, guess I identified with one of my kind. I’m Grenn and I’m shouldn’t rib the guy who stuck up for me earlier. And who might this be?”_ he’d added, nudging Jon in the ribs.

_“Sansa, this is Grenn who Professor Thorne says should be failing Civil Procedures but is doing fairly well by my reckoning.”_

_“All because of this guy’s help,”_ Grenn had said, slapping Jon heartily on the back. _“Nice to meet you, Sansa.”_

_"Nice to meet you, too, Grenn."_

After that, the walk back to her dormitory was quiet but comfortable, companionable. Oh yes, the swoopy feeling was still there but a little more muted after her cry. 

They shared their plans for the following day which, unbeknown to Sansa until then, might just align.

“I told Grandpa last weekend I could drive Mabel to town for those party supplies!”

“Well, Gamma asked me if I’d drive her and Mabel on Wednesday. Your grandpa was sitting right there when we discussed it,” Jon said, scratching at his beard as if this were a mystery to ponder. 

Sansa didn’t think there was much mystery to it at all but didn’t say so. If her grandpa and potentially Jon’s gamma wanted them to spend a Saturday afternoon together running two elderly ladies around town, she couldn’t say she’d complain one bit. 

On the way up the stairwell, Jon commented on the stain glass window in the alcove. "That's really beautiful."

"It is, isn't it? Are you familiar with the stories of Florian and Jonquil?"

"Is that what it's from?"

"Yes, when they first met...when Florian named himself a fool and a knight."

"Oh, right." 

He cast a glance her was but didn't say anything more. That swoopy feeling was back in full force. 

“If you want, we could save gas and just carpool to Oldstones on Saturday,” Jon (helpfully) suggested once they reached the dorm again and he had his dry shoes and socks back. 

He was slipping off the Wiley slippers and Sansa was almost tempted to tell him to keep them. She was also weirdly close to telling him she thought he had nice feet?! But instead, she simply told him, “Sure thing.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, Baelish it not going to be an ongoing issue in this story...but that doesn't mean Hoster won't be coming for him with his cane before the end.
> 
> I had planned to get to Saturday's running around with Rhaella in this chapter but decided I wanted to switch to Rhaella's POV for that. Thank you for reading!


	7. Rhaella

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning- This chapter is mostly just silliness and probably not near enough Jonsa but I was having fun with Rhaella, her matchmaking plans and her friend *hits post and flees*

Rhaella looked at the hot pink, 16 x 20 poster board tacked up on the door of the center’s main rec room. Layla, or rather Layla’s granddaughters, had gone all out with the glitter. Poor old girl would be picking it out of her dentures and scalp for weeks more than likely.

Still, it was just what they’d needed to advertise the upcoming dance:

**Saturday the 9th, Get Ready to Boogie Down!**

“I’m not boogieing much of anything down with my hip these days. And that sign’s squee-wabbed.”

Scowling, she turned to find Hoster standing behind her grinning, the salty dog. “Squee-wabbed? What’s that mean?”

“Squee-wabbed. All cattywampus. You know, crooked.”

“That’s a new one on me.”

“We learn something every day, they say.”

“Why didn’t you just say crooked? And it’s not crooked.”

But she took a second look and, by damn, if it wasn’t a touch squee-wabbed…or crooked. And son of a gun, if he wasn’t pulling a teeny-tiny level out of his pocket! Who carried a level in their pocket like that?!

“Fine! It’s a little crooked…or whopper-jawed,” she added with a subtle wink. “Why don’t you fix it, Mr. Fix-It?”

That same saucy grin which happened to make her grin right back. She quickly squashed her grin though because fussing with Hoster over silly things was a little more fun than it probably should be. No one could ever take Minisa’s place in his heart, which Rhaella respected, and after Aerys she figured she didn’t need any entanglements anyhow, good riddance and all. Hoster was just her friend and it was nice having a man for a friend who she could get a little sassy with and not fear some sort of blow up was all this was.

But then he had to go and say, “Why, Miss Ellie May, nothing would make me prouder than to be your handyman,” and her dumb old heart went pitter-patter like a fool.

Luckily, someone else was coming to inspect their sign. “Dance, huh? Reckon I’ll need to get my sport coat out of mothballs,” Jason Mallister said.

Of the gentlemen at Oldstones, Jason was probably one of the few still capable of cutting a rug with the best of them. Rhaella personally knew of at least three ladies who were fervently hoping he’d ask them for a dance. It ain’t over ‘til it’s over, they say.

“I’d better pick up some muff butter. Little punch and some dancing and I'll betcha these old hens will be spreading their…”

Rhaella turned back around with a huff. She had no time to waste on a cockroach like Walder Frey and refused to acknowledge his existence in general.

“Go outside and catch yourself some sunstroke, Walder. The lady don’t wanna hear your gutter mouth and neither do I,” Hoster snarled.

He sounded pretty fierce to Rhaella’s ears and those bushy eyebrows were drawn together with what she thought of as Hoster’s Angry Eyes. For all his sweet underbelly, she thought Hoster could be a tough customer if he was riled enough. She didn’t see that look often but they did the trick to have Walder shuffling off, even if he was still making rude comments for his own amusement under his breath.

“Rhaella? I think Jon’s here,” she heard Yaya say from reception nearby.

“Oh, thanks! I told him to stop here first.”

“Wait…is that Sansa riding with him?” Hoster asked as they watched Jon park his SUV right outside the large picture window.

“Looks like it.”

She grinned watching Jon jump out of the car and race around to the passenger side. Sansa, likely not anticipating any door opening, was already climbing out by the time he got there but he got an A for effort in her book for making the gentlemanly move. Considering the poor boy’s bafflement over the rose business, she thought that was a pretty good sign of progress.

Rhaella wasn’t sure what had prompted this carpooling. She’d thought to surprise them both by having them show up at the same time and ‘Wow! Well, isn’t this great and since you’re both here…’ but she wasn’t going to complain or even say one peep about it until they did. No need to make them feel overly conscious or give them a hint that their grandparents were plotting anything if it could be helped.

Of course, that didn’t stop Hoster.

“Why’re you two riding together? We didn’t think either of you knew the other was coming.”

* * *

“I get carsick. Can I ride up front?”

“Of course, Mrs. Johnson. I don’t mind,” Sansa said as Mabel was elbowing her way past them to climb into the front seat while Jon was holding the door open...and not quite hiding his disappointed look. 

“Can you help me with this seatbelt, Jon? These new-fangled cars…” 

“Yes, ma’am.”

"Rhaella, your grandson is the sweetest thing and handsome, too." There she was giving Jon that big grin of hers as the poor boy was turning scarlet. 

_You can save that flirting for Mallister and stop looking like a fool, Mabel Lee Johnson...you hussy._

But Rhaella just rolled her eyes and wondered why she hadn’t suggested that her and the kids could handle this on their own. But Mabel was in charge of the dance and Rhaella had roped the kids into this hoping they’d have some time to be together. At least Mabel wouldn’t be riding back to campus with them.

Deciding to make the best of it, she turned to Sansa in the backseat as Jon pulled out onto the road, following Mabel’s instructions of where to go first…even though he had his phone doing that thing where it was telling him the same thing. Backseat chats with a girlfriend was something Rhaella had plenty of experience with and she wanted a chance to get to know Sansa better on her own.

“So, you ran into each other last night?” she prompted.

A very pretty smile and the girl tugged on that long, red hair of hers which was braided this morning. By Seven, she was a beauty. “Yes, Jon happened upon me and a friend. He actually had perfect timing.” 

She was glancing towards the rearview mirror. Rhaella checked and, sure enough, Jon was glancing right back, blue eyes meeting grey. Looked like he was smiling wider than Sansa even. _Excellent_. 

“Perfect timing, you say?”

“A friend of mine had been at a party.” 

Her voice dropped to a whisper as Mabel was getting louder, trying to out talk the voice on Jon’s phone. "Turn left up here!" 

“Her ex-boyfriend had called her to come to it and she’d thought he’d wanted to talk and maybe get back together but he was just wanting…” Sansa quickly bit her lip and her cheeks grew rosy. 

“He wasn’t interested in talking, was he?” Rhaella said, gently. Kids could be so uptight about straight talk around the old folks. She supposed she couldn’t blame her. She would’ve died of mortification at the thoughts of coming out and talking about sex with her own mother, let alone her grandmother or the grandmother of the young man she was getting to know.

“No, he wasn’t. Anyway, my friend had been drinking her sorrows away but it wasn't safe for her to stay there with them and I needed some help getting her home again. Jon came upon us at the perfect moment. He even carried Beth up the stairs when we got to our residence hall…like a knight or something,” Sansa finished with a very telling sigh. 

Rhaella didn’t know who Beth was beyond Sansa’s friend and she wasn’t entirely sure she liked that Beth got carried in his arms and Sansa didn’t but there was no doubt her grandson had done alright, not that she would expect anything else. 

“And you two worked out that you were both going to be here today then?”

“Yes, we talked for a while over tea and coffee once Beth was put to bed and Jon’s shoes were taken care of.”

Oh, they’d gone and had coffee! That seemed promising. But, what else did she say? “What about his shoes?”

* * *

“Gamma, I don’t need you to buy me a pair of shoes. I’ve got another couple of pairs…”

“Oh hush and humor me. They still stink, right?”

“Well, yeah but…”

“Alright then. Here’s some money. Catch up with us in the party supply store once you’re done.” She gave him a nudge towards the shoe store. “Let’s go, girls,” she said over her shoulder, leaving her red-faced grandson behind. 

She caught a giggling Sansa giving him a sympathetic look out of the corner of her eye though and he started shrugging and grinning back. _Good_. Part of her was tempted to suggest Sansa go with him since she’d probably be familiar with styles and such but that would be too obvious. She could play it cool.

Mabel handed over her list, telling Rhaella and Sansa to get started while she went to haggle over balloon prices and delivery. 

“Do we really need balloons?”

“Of course, we do. What’s a party without balloons?”

“Alright but don’t get the regular kind. Get those foil ones. Anya’s allergic to latex.”

Mabel sniffed, derisively. The foil ones were pricier and she’d probably not get a good haggle in now. _Well, we won’t be flooded with balloons getting popped left and right that way and maybe giving some poor soul a heart attack._ Nothing made her jumpier quicker than a balloon popping unexpectedly, not since she'd rid herself of Aerys anyway.

Sansa was quiet pushing the cart as Rhaella went down the aisles looking for the items on the list. Mabel was going all out. She’d been put in charge of the entertainment budget and was determined to liven things up after Tight-Fisted Tywin had moved to some other hoity-toity home last year. _Man with that kind of money and holding onto the budget strings like Scrooge._

“Mrs. Targaryen?” Sansa said tentatively, drawing Rhaella from her thoughts.

“Call me Rhaella, honey.”

“Okay. Rhaella, does Jon…do you know if Jon has a girl-”

“Got some new shoes. Happy?” 

Poor Sansa jumped like someone had popped a balloon right behind them, bless her, as Jon joined them, holding up his bag as evidence. 

Rhaella pursed her lips. “That was awfully quick.” _And your timing wasn’t so perfect just now either_. 

“It’s just shoes,” he replied with a shrug. Leave it to a boy to buy a pair of shoes in less than ten minutes. 

Still, when he handed over her change and kissed her cheek in thanks, she couldn’t be too perturbed.

“Jon? Can you reach that big disco ball up there on the top shelf for me?”

“Sure thing, Gamma.”

And as Jon was reaching up, Rhaella ducked around his back to say to Sansa, “The answer to your question is no.”

Sansa's cheeks were pink as could be but her smile was adorable as she mouthed the word 'thanks.' 

* * *

After the party supply store, they went to the bakery to order a slew of cupcakes and then stopped in the grocery store to get a few other things set to be picked up the day of the dance.

Spotting the café on the corner, she suggested they have a refreshment before heading back. She then drug Mabel up to the counter to look at the baklava in the case, giving Jon and Sansa a few minutes alone. They’d spent forty minutes or so riding here together and they’d be riding back but it wouldn’t hurt to give them a few more minutes, would it? 

Clearly, if Sansa had to ask his relationship status, they hadn’t covered everything yet. Although, her wanting to know was promising. The ball might be in Jon's court now though and Rhaella didn't know how brave he was when it came to the ladies. Based on what Lyanna had told her of that crazy girl he'd dated a few years ago, he might be a little twice-shy. 

But...based on the way her grandson was leaning in as Sansa showed him something on her phone, with his big puppy dog eyes on Sansa every bit as much as her phone, Rhaella thought maybe he’d ask her for a dance next week if he didn’t work up the nerve to ask her out sooner. _Maybe. Don’t jinx it._

Once Mabel had had enough of being distracted, they headed back to the table.

“Are you ladies ready to go back?” Jon asked, raising his cup to finish off his drink. 

“We need one more stop first,” Mabel announced. 

Rhaella looked at her in confusion. "We covered the list, didn't we?" 

“We’ll need to stop at the pharmacy for some latex. Not the kind they make balloons with although some folks do that as a gag, I've heard.” Mabel waggled her eyebrows at Rhaella to make her meaning clear.

And, poor Jon spit out his drink all over his shoes as Sansa covered her face to hide her shocked laughter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been having fun rotating the POVs and Hoster will get some more of them but I think next chapter will be Jon or Sansa's so I hope you'll stick with me for that :)


	8. Jon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear this fic is meant to be light over all but here's a heads up-Jon's going to briefly recall incidents of domestic violence and child abuse from his past during their ride back to campus.
> 
> Oh, almost forgot to mention that undercrackers was a new term for me until recently. Thank you, Amy 😂

“Here we are back again, ladies,” Jon said, stopping out front of his grandmother’s bungalow after the upcoming dance party errand-running was complete.

“Thank gods. I drank too much soda at that café and been fearing for my undercrackers the last five miles or more.”

“Mabel!”

“Well, I have, Rhaella. They’re my prettiest pair, too. Thanks for driving, handsome,” she added, giving Jon’s cheek a pinch.

“Undercrackers?” he whispered to himself before deciding he _really_ didn’t want any details.

But, before he jumped out to open doors for his passengers, he glanced back in the rearview mirror again, catching Sansa in a fit of silent giggles at Mabel’s antics, making his heart skip a beat.

_I wouldn’t mind checking out your undercrackers._

Despite a few mortifying moments, including his grandmother buying him a pair of shoes as if he were seven and then him having to actually put on the new pair of shoes after spewing soda all over the old ones, Jon was having a pretty amazing day.

Yeah, thinking about the forty-plus-minute ride from campus to Oldstones with Sansa had had him doublechecking his deodorant that morning and reaching for his older pair of sneakers to avoid the ones that still smelled like vomit from the previous night before going to pick her up but they’d fallen into a comfortable chat within minutes of her climbing into his SUV.

The previous night and Sansa’s confidences were still on his mind and the law student in him hadn't been able to resist asking another question or two. The whole business was horribly unfair to Sansa and, while he was glad Dean Blackwood seemed to be on her side, Jon thought Sansa could possibly use some more ammo in her corner. _What help I can be though remains to be seen._

But the radio was playing some good tunes, it was a pleasant Saturday and the topics strayed to lighter subjects. _Well, fairly light._

He had told her about his mother and Ghost back in Eastwatch, about moving there when he’d been twelve and living in Kings Landing as a kid. He told her bits and pieces about undergrad days at Long Barrow too but had avoided mentioning Ygritte. Not that he wouldn't tell Sansa about it if the timing felt right but lighter topics and all.

They’d talked about Beth some more and how she was doing (better this morning though hungover) and about how both girls had grown up in Winterfell, a city Jon had visited a couple of times. Sansa went on to talk about her parents and siblings for a good stretch of the drive, too.

She was very meticulous recounting the sports trophies her older brother had won which were still proudly on display in her father’s den, her sister’s recent invitation to join Braavos’ international fencing team, such a high and unusual honor for someone of not of Braavosi birth, her younger brother Bran’s early admittance into the Citadel Institute of Technology, the most elite university in Westeros for eggheads, and even Rickon’s garage band recently winning a school-wide competition.

And Jon loved learning more about her family but there was just one problem. Maybe it was just him or maybe Intuition was whispering in his ear but Jon got the impression that she’d heard a little too often about how great all those accomplishments were and maybe not enough about how great she was.

True, he had two half-siblings and he loved them but he hadn’t grown up with them either. Yes, he’d see them when he went to his father’s house but he felt very much like it was _their_ house and he was a guest visiting even though he knew that wasn’t Elia, Rhaenys or Aegon’s intention. Also, his dad had sent him to Rhaella’s whenever he could those weekends because he was aware that the living proof of his infidelity might make him look bad to the neighbors or whatever, the phony shit.

But Jon was Lyanna’s only child and never in doubt of her affections so maybe he was reading too much into things not understanding normal parent-child dynamics when there were multiple siblings vying for what attention there was for a parent (who are as flawed as any other human being) to give.

Or maybe not.

_“What about you? What stuff were you into as a kid or what are you still into?”_

_“Oh, nothing great. Just girl stuff,”_ she’d replied with a shrug. Her shoulders had seemed to slump inward, too. Yep, Intuition wasn’t always kind to Jon but sometimes She spoke loud and clear.

_“Girl stuff? So what falls under that label in Sansa Stark’s opinion?”_

He’d got an uncomfortable grin. _“Baking and sewing. Romantic books and movies, boy bands. Silly stuff.”_

_“So, you’re into skills necessary for the sustaining of life as well as a patron of the arts? Doesn't sound silly to me.”_

_“I…thank you, Jon.”_

_“What else?”_

_“When I was younger, Grandpa and Grandma had rabbits and I helped take care of them when I’d visit. Plus, I love dogs and cats, just animals in general. At first, I thought I wanted to go into veterinary medicine but I cry too much when something bad happens to animals in movies to ever be able to handle the hard parts of being a vet, I think."_ A self-conscious look had followed. _"My brothers and sister would always laugh at that...me crying over movies."_

_"There's no shame in having emotions. Put on 'Old Yeller' and watch me bawl my eyes out."_

An adorable snort of amusement. _"With people though, even when things are bad, I know they can understand that I want to help and, as a nurse, I get to focus on patient care in a manner doctors don’t.”_

_“You’re a caregiver, Sansa, and I think that’s fantastic. The world needs them, always has and always will, maybe now more than ever.”_

A genuine smile and a blush had been the response to that.

Back at Oldstones after their errands with Rhaella and Mabel (the dynamo/would-be silver cougar/owner of the undercrackers), Jon had parted ways with Sansa for a while so she could spend some time with Hoster and he could spend some time, one on one, with his grandmother.

No sooner than she'd put her pocketbook away, she was heading to the kitchen and pulling out some cherry kool-aid. "Don't spill this on your shoes. It'll stain."

He rolled his eyes, chuckling until he saw her pulling out a pot. “You don’t have to cook me anything, Gamma.”

A tsk and an eyeroll back at him. “When did you last eat?”

His stomach had betrayed him with it’s growling. “Um…I had a granola bar this morning.”

She started filling the pot with water. “I would’ve bought you lunch at the café.”

“I can buy my own lunch. I could’ve bought everyone else's lunch if you'd been hungry," he added, his pride a little riled. Yeah, he joked about being a poor college student but honestly he wasn't bad off thanks to his summer internship money. "You already bought me shoes you didn't have to pay for, too.”

“Don’t deny me my pleasures, Jon,” she said with a sly grin as she pulled a very familiar blue box down from a cabinet.

“Holy shit. Is that…”

“Kraft Macaroni and Cheese? Yep.”

“The Deluxe Dinner?”

“Yep.”

Ridiculous how a hundred childhood memories could flood him with just that stupid blue box. How many times had he been absolutely delighted to see her making that when he'd still been a finicky little kid? Yeah, his mother would make it sometimes too but she always said how it was _not_ a _real_ dinner no matter what the box claimed and he had to eat his veggies and whatever protein she put in front of him before he got a second serving of the good stuff. 

But with Gamma, it was the only thing she expected him to eat every bite of and she'd dish out seconds with no questions or wry looks. 

Even Viserys would hurry to the table when she'd make it and sometimes she even let them eat it in the den...with the TV on! Viserys and Dany would argue about what cartoon to watch until they'd ultimately draw a truce over Wylie Wolf 'because Jon likes it' while Jon just sat there shoveling in spoonful after spoonful, absolutely delighted. Warm, cheddary goodness, his favorite cartoon, his gamma's smiles and childhood. 

“Have I told you lately you’re the best grandmother ever?”

She actually blushed which made him grin all the more. “Possibly but I could stand to hear it again.”

He sidled up next to her, taking the pot from her hand and placing it on the stove while dropping a quick kiss on her cheek. “You’re the best gamma ever. I love you…and I’m making this for us.”

“What?! Oh, Jon! I’m-”

“Going to cut up some apples and get out that whole wheat bread and the Arbor honey so we can make this a real dinner, right?”

“A real dinner, huh?”

“Yeah. One for you and me.”

Her chin started trembling and he sure didn’t want to make his grandmother cry so he gave her a hug and told her to get cracking on those apples which had her laughing and swatting him with her dish towel.

And yeah, it was better than any meal he’d had lately, too.

* * *

Two hours later, the sun was starting to dip as Jon and Sansa were heading back towards campus. They had both been quiet initially, both probably a little tired after the day and letting the radio be the only noise. But it didn’t feel awkward.

Awkward had been his grandmother suggesting to Jon and Sansa both as they were leaving that they should carpool every time they visited. 

Hoster had been nodding along eagerly and added, _“Think of the gas money and wear and tear on the vehicle you’d save!”_

And it wasn’t that Jon would mind doing that but he didn’t want Sansa to feel forced into it. _I mean, she seems to like me but she’s really sweet in general so does she ‘like me’ like me or is she just being nice?_

Either way, it was growing increasingly obvious that his grandmother at least wanted to set them up.

_“You should ask her out, Jon.”_

Okay, really obvious.

At least that had been said around a mouthful of macaroni when it was still just the two of them. Then, Viserys had called and his grandmother’s good mood had been dashed for a bit.

As he was thinking of his uncle, it seemed sort of kismet that Sansa spoke up then and asked, “Why do you want to be a lawyer?” Maybe Intuition paid her visits as well, probably more regularly than Jon. 

“To take fat cats to the cleaners and thumb my nose at the law.”

Her mouth fell open, adorably shocked. 

“No, no. That was a joke. It’s what your grandpa said the other day when he asked me about it.”

She scowled. It was even more adorable. “Mr. Jokester thinks he’s funny sometimes.”

“Well, I laughed so I can’t say anything. To be honest, I want to help people.”

“The wrongly accused and such?”

“Yeah but not just that. I want to help people whether they’re innocent or not. I mean, I know there’s going to be clients out there I can’t stand, who’ve done horrible things. I’m not stupid. But if there’s someone who’s maybe made some mistakes and can do better if they’re not given up on or someone who has been wrongly accused that I can defend, it would be worth the rest of it. At least, I hope so. I want to be part of the process and see if I can’t make the process better than it is. I’ve got an uncle with some mental health issues and a lengthy criminal history even though he’s only a few years older than me. It’s very hard on my grandmother but also, I’ve seen how the system fails people like Viserys. I’d like to…I don’t know…maybe make that better, maybe help some families who are torn apart by not only the illness and bad choices but the system that seems to work _against_ rehabilitation as much as for it, no matter what it claims.”

“That’s a good answer, Jon. And you’ve got a personal investment in it, too.”

“Yeah, my uncle’s not the only brush with law and order I’ve experienced either.”

“Oh?” she asked quietly, not pushy. Just letting him tell her if he would kind of like last night when she’d opened up to him. He wanted to tell her.

“I had a girlfriend back at Long Barrow. My first real girlfriend, first relationship out of high school and she was…well, she didn’t hide who she was but I guess I had my blinders on at first.”

“What happened? Was it drugs or something?”

“No. She was violent.”

“With you?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, Jon.”

“I didn’t know how to handle it and I felt ashamed asking for advice or help because I thought I’m the man and I’m supposed to be able to…” It still wasn’t easy to talk about but he truly didn’t mind telling Sansa. “There was an incident one night after we broke up when she showed up angry and aggressive. Someone in the dorms called the cops and I thought they were going to take me to jail because…well, statistically there’s a reason for them to make that assumption. But I never hit her. She hit me, several times actually. And when the campus cops figured that out, they, um…they laughed.”

“Why, those absolute…” She bit down on whatever curse word she was contemplating which helped bleed of the tension from the memory for him. “What happened then?”

“They drove her home and told me to file a restraining order. I filed it and got my first firsthand look at the legal system and its inadequacies. Voilà, lawyer in the making.”

"I think that's admirable even if I hate that you went through that."

"Yeah well, wish me luck, I guess."

_So many people out there full of rage and you think you can make a difference? Ygritte, Viserys…and Aerys._

If he’d felt helpless at eighteen in the face of Ygritte’s anger, it was nothing compared to what he’d felt as a small boy in the face of his grandfather’s wrath.

Seven and feeling full of energy on a rainy afternoon, he'd been kicking a soccer ball around inside even though he knew better. He'd wound up breaking a picture frame. He'd felt horrible...but then his grandfather had come flying down the hall at him and he'd been absolutely terrified. He'd never seen such fury in another person's eyes and it'd been aimed right at him. A shove, a slap, a strong hand at his throat, faces less than two inches apart. For a few seconds, he'd thought Aerys would kill him until Dany had come to see what had happened. 

He closed his mouth, not sure if he should discuss that. Old habits and all. He'd never told his grandmother even after all these years, not after Dany had tearfully begged him not to say a word.

_“You know not to kick the ball inside! If you tattle, she might make my daddy leave. You’ll ruin everything and this isn't even your house! Promise never to say a word! Promise me, Jon!”_

He couldn't blame Daenerys for swearing him to secrecy. She'd been a child, younger than him, and afraid of losing the safety net of her parents together. So, he'd not said a word, only lived in terror of his grandfather after that. His mother had suspected something had happened though he'd not admitted it until years later, after they'd moved to Eastwatch. He thought his grandmother might've suspected it, too. He knew she'd never left him alone again with his grandfather. When she went to the store, she always took Jon along after that day. 

The mac and cheese rumbled uncomfortably in his stomach. The last thing he wanted to do today was soil another pair of shoes or get sick in front of Sansa.

"Jon?"

He glanced away from the road to look at her, staring at him so earnestly. He'd kind of spaced out there, faded back to that time he'd been a frightened seven-year-old. "I'm sorry. I...I was remembering something kind of bad."

He had to watch the road. It was easier to look at the road than her anyway for this part. But when he felt her hand on his forearm, a light touch, it all came out. 

* * *

Sometimes, just talking is the start we need. It wouldn't change what had happened years ago but he had a lot of years of life between then and now and he was hardly the only kid to have experiences like that in their past. Lucky for him, it was an isolated incident, not a pattern he'd lived with. When he thought about it though, he knew it was something his grandmother had lived with, that Aerys' anger had been there a long while and, no matter how she'd sheltered them, Viserys and Dany had seen some of it, too. 

Sansa had been lovely and listened and not said one thing to make him feel weird about sharing something so personal and traumatic from his childhood with her. What was it about Sansa? He felt like he could tell her anything. 

_Well, how about ‘would you want to go out sometime?’ or ‘I’d really love to kiss you,’ Mr. Tell-Her-Anything?_

Okay, after everything he'd shared earlier, he was a little too emotionally spent to spit that out but he didn't want to leave her side just yet.

Maybe she didn't want him to leave either. 

"Would you like to come up for a bit?" she asked, cheeks turning a bit pink, really sweet. "I promised Beth we'd watch a period romance when I got home and eat junk food to help her forget about stupid Flement and last night but I don't think she'd mind you joining us...if you want that is. Of course, I'm sure it's not anything you'd be interested in watching or-"

"Why wouldn't I want to watch? I like history stuff."

"You like movies with ballgowns and pining, ones that will have me and my friend swooning over things like the lead couple's hands touching even?"

He grinned. "Sure, all that." Did he typically watch movies like she was describing? No. Would he for her? Gods, yes. 

"My ex-boyfriend never sat through anything without a high body count and car chases unless is was sports."

"Never, huh?"

"No, not once." 

"Well, good thing I'm not him."

"Yeah, good thing," she said with a fetchingly enigmatic smile. 

Beth was flustered for all of a minute upon their arrival. "Did I need to go to the library for an hour or so?" he could hear her whispering to Sansa.

"No! We're just hanging out!" Sansa hissed back, her face tomato red. 

He intently studied the posters on their wall and pretended to be deaf. _And I have my own apartment so no need for you to kill time at the library if we ever get down to our undercrackers together, Beth._

Their dorm was small of course and Sansa apologized for that for some reason. "No worries. I spent three years sharing a room like this."

He sat on the end of Sansa's bed, his hand lightly touching the soft quilt she had on top of it. Sansa was at the head of the bed and Beth took the fluffy bean-bag style chair as the movie started. The lights were turned off and a bag of chips and some gummy bears were brought out. Jon sipped a bottle of water and let himself get comfortable. Sansa offered him an extra pillow to prop up with. It was kind of like watching _Jeopardy_ with the old folks...and kind of not. _We've still got a chaperone though._

As the movie played and the darkness outside of the little screen invited him to relax, they both stretched out, drew a little closer. Sansa's socked foot was resting against his calf. _Swoon_. Ridiculous maybe but he was very hyper-focused on that bit of them which was touching. _Imagine if I could convince her to curl up against me as we watch? Be still my heart...and my semi._

“Are you visiting Hoster Wednesday?” he asked quietly at one point when the heroine was walking forlornly through another endless meadow full of flowers.

“I’m still getting my schedule worked out after everything so I’m not sure yet.”

So much for carpooling Wednesday then.

“But I’ll be at the dance next Saturday and if you’re going too…”

“Wanna ride with me again? We’ll save on gas and wear and tear on our vehicles.”

She giggled and nodded, leaning closer. _Oh so much closer!_ Whispering, because they didn't want to disturb Beth's enjoyment of the movie, they agreed on a time for him to pick her up.

But when Sansa excused herself to use the bathroom at one point, he leaned over and asked Beth, "What color roses do you think Sansa likes best?" 

Beth's lips twitched. “Yellow.”

"Yellow. Okay, thanks.” He'd need to find a florist shop with some fresh yellow roses for Saturday. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll skip ahead to the dance next chapter (POV undecided, maybe mixed). Thanks for reading!!


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